The Field Trip
by LisaT
Summary: Or, The Little Frakkers. Roslin, Adama & Tory accompany the kids on a camping trip in New Caprica. Double update: In Which There is No Food and In Which There is Drowning. Please review! Also: help finding a fic in ch 7...
1. Chapter 1

_This was originally posted on LJ some years ago. I haven't polished it too much as I've always rather liked it. It was partly inspired by a very funny unfinished (I think) A/R fic,_ Jungle Love _, but I'd be lying if I didn't add that this also owes much to Kerry W's_ Voyager Days _series too (old ST:VOY). I hope you enjoy this as much as I enjoyed those!_

* * *

 **1: In Which Laura and Bill Struggle With Gravity**

* * *

'This is all Racetrack's fault,' Laura Roslin said peevishly, struggling up a wall of mud that falsely advertised itself as a hill.

'It's not her fault you decided to have a field trip,' Admiral Bill Adama pointed out from behind her.

Laura carefully pivoted to glare at him. It was incredibly slippery underfoot, and she was burdened by an impressive rucksack, making her balance precarious.

'Let me give you a recap, Admiral. Racetrack found the planet, didn't she? Without the planet, Gaius frakking Baltar would have lost the election, and we would thus not be _on_ the planet. _Ergo_ , it's Racetrack's fault.'

She noted with some satisfaction he had nothing to say to _that_. Not that she thought she'd got away with impugning one of his pilots; she knew he'd have his revenge, eventually, and almost found herself looking forward to it. She plunged the stick with which one of the more thoughtful boys had provided her into the slough of mud, and leaned forward in order to take another step. The sounds of cheering drifted down the hillside, and she paused to glance up through the canopy of leaves, squinting around the glare of her glasses.

'Sounds like they've made it to camp,' she said in a more amiable tone.

'Yeah,' Bill grunted. 'Let's get a move on. My shoes are leaking.'

Startled, she pivoted again. 'Leaking? I thought they were military issue.'

'They were. Twenty years ago.'

She rolled her eyes and prepared to turn around again - but her foot slipped on a loose stone and she staggered, reaching out for Bill. He grabbed her automatically, but without his arms to give him balance, the extra weight was too much and he went over, causing them both to slither ungracefully through the mud.

Once their impromptu slide had stopped and they'd blinked the daze out of their eyes, they struggled to their feet.

'This was _definitely_ a bad idea,' Laura complained, more breathless than she cared to admit. Her eyes became narrow slits of fury behind her mud-spattered glasses. 'There _will_ be ructions, I promise you.'

'What are you gonna do?' Bill asked, altogether too calmly. 'One hundred lines of "I must not piss off Miss Roslin"?'

She flung him an unpleasant smile over her shoulder as she began to toil up the hill once more. 'Nothing so trite, Admiral.' She gave a complacent smirk. 'I'll have you know I was renowned for my punishments during my teaching days.'

His eyebrows skyrocketed and his gaze became fixed on her face. 'Yeah?'

She kept the smirk in place and hummed her assent, but Bill, most provokingly, said nothing, so she focused on moving onward and upward.

'I can hear you thinking from here,' she called after several moments when he remained taciturn and the only sounds were the rustling of the leaves overhead mingling with their own harsh breathing and the muddy squelch that echoed every step.

'Little full of yourself, aren't you, Roslin?' he jeered, giving her a light slap across the backside.

Laura yelped in surprise. 'What was that for?'

'I'm just giving you a friendly shove up the hill,' he told her, doing it again.

She glowered at the muddy path ahead of her, not daring to turn around. 'That implies sustained, helpful pressure,' she informed him acerbically, the words coming out almost of their own volition. 'Slaps don't qualify.'

His low chuckle in response was so near that she realised he was literally behind her, so close that she could lean back and touch him.

She wanted to. _How_ she wanted to. But she couldn't. They were on a field trip, and that meant behaving like responsible adults, even if they were old, slow, and dripping black goo. She sighed and her next plunge with the stick was particularly vicious.

'What's wrong?' Bill asked, mockery turning to concern with lightning speed.

'Nothing,' she said shortly.

'Cut the crap, Roslin,' he told her. 'You were ... enjoying... my help, weren't you?'

'Now who's full of himself?' she muttered, her mood souring.

Laura thought she heard a grumbled 'Women,' but she refused to verify it, because she was consumed with an overwhelming desire to hurt him. She was tired, cold, covered in gloop, and _now_ he wanted to have a deep and meaningful about her feelings?

She huffed in annoyance and concentrated on making it up the hill. The fact that they were very much the tail end of the group of seventeen teenagers and three adults did nothing to improve her temper. She hated being in the tail end of anything, and she shuddered to think what the kids were up to. Even Tory was not all-powerful.

'Can't ... be ... too much further now,' she panted after ten minutes of hard and mostly silent climbing.

'It's not,' Bill confirmed. 'Another five minutes should do it.'

'Thank the gods for that,' Laura snapped.

'Sure you don't want help?'

Laura said nothing.

'We could help each other,' Bill suggested hopefully.

Laura snorted. 'Yeah, and then we'd tumble down again. I'd rather be excused.'

He had the sense to keep quiet and they continued to climb.

And then Nemesis arrived, in the shape of several whooping boys equipped with sheets of wood. Laura blinked.

'Are they doing what I think they are?' she asked in sudden panic.

Bill's only answer was a heartfelt groan. She tried to move, but she was stiff and tired and they were too slow. The whooping got louder. And closer. And then there was the sound of mingled expletives and snickers, but it no longer mattered because Laura and Bill had been knocked off their feet yet again.

They lay side by side in the mud and studied the light dappling through the leaves.

'Maybe we should just stay here and smoke weed,' Laura said in a conversational tone edged with more than a little bite. 'Clearly, we are fated to never reach the frakking camp.'

She heard Bill's breathing change, preparatory to speaking, and raised a finger, mud dripping gelatinously back to its source. 'Don't. Just _don't_.'

For a wonder he obeyed, and she relaxed. Wet mud wasn't actually that bad, she decided. It was cold, but at least it was relatively soft.

They stayed there until Tory's distinctive mop of hair appeared before them, haloed in retina burn. 'What the frak do you two think you're doing?' she demanded shrilly, hands on hips. 'This is a field trip, not a beauty spa!'

That was the last straw. Laura could feel the giggles rising up in her as she thought of the ridiculous picture they made, and she made the mistake of catching Bill's eye at the crucial moment. They reached for each other and began to laugh hysterically.

Tory continued to glare, and they laughed harder.

Eventually, she said, 'Fine. Suit yourselves. Die of hypothermia. See if I care,' and stormed off, leaving the erstwhile leaders of humanity alone in their muddy bed.

* * *

 _Next bit coming soon! I'd love to know what you think._


	2. Chapter 2

**Many thanks to Guest for commenting! I'm so glad you enjoyed the start of this and hope it continues to amuse!**

* * *

 **2: In Which There Is Flirting**

* * *

By the time Bill and Laura joined the camp, their amusement was long gone. Darkness settled with stunning suddenness on New Caprica, and the mud that plastered them almost from top to toe was starting to dry out and stiffen.

Tory's greeting smirk was no consolation.

'So you finally made it,' she said when they approached, their steps mincing and awkward.

Laura glared. 'Not one word, Tory. All I want to hear out of you is coffee, bath, and bed, and not necessarily in that order.'

Her former aide's grin was positively malicious. 'I'm afraid you're outta luck. No beds, the coffee is growing cold - although I _could_ be persuaded to heat it up for you,' she added with faux kindness, 'and the bath's that-away. If you can find it.'

'Whaddya mean?' Bill barked, for which Laura was devoutly grateful. Murdering her assistant would be a shocking example to set her impressionable students.

'The boys discovered a hot spring nearby. It's a bit of scramble to get to-'

Laura's moan of longing cut her off. 'I don't care. Point me in the right direction.'

'The Admiral'd have to go with you,' Tory told her. 'What if you fell? It's dark.'

Laura gave her another glare. 'Yes, thank you. I think we've noticed that. Bill?'

'I'll hold your hand,' he said, and she transferred her glare to _him_. 'Okay, Miss Foster. How do we get there?'

Tory, dark eyes still sparkling, called one of the older boys over. He hummed and hahhed and turned an interesting shade of red when Miss Foster told him innocently that 'Miss Roslin and Admiral Adama want to get cleaned up. Do tell them how they can find the spring.'

The kid's eyes went from Laura to Bill and back to Tory before he fired out the instructions with such speed that Laura could not make head or tail of them. When Bill nodded and said he'd got it, she sent her student a poor attempt at a smile.

'Thank you, Jack. That's very helpful. You can go now.'

The boy turned scarlet all over again, muttered something incomprehensible, and almost ran away. Laura huffed while Bill chuckled.

'I'd forgotten what teenage boys can be like,' he remarked. 'That's what Lee was like at that age. He got embarrassed at any hint that an adult might actually be human.'

'Welcome to my life,' Laura snarked, not particularly interested in tales of Lee Adama at that point. Her clothes were becoming stiffer by the second. 'Uggh. I really wanna get out of these.'

Tory smirked. Laura mentally resolved to hurt the young woman if she ever saw that expression again. 'What are you waiting for? We've told you where the 'bath' is. Go on; I'm sure I'll cope in your absence.'

Laura sniffed at the less-than-subtle dig in the last sentence and looped her cracking, flaky arm through Bill's. 'Come on. Let's go get cleaned up.'

He turned on his torch and led her in the direction indicated by Jack, followed by a series of whoops and cheers and obscene suggestions that they naturally ignored.

* * *

When they reappeared several hours later, they were squeaky clean and cold. Laura's teeth were chattering as she huddled down in the tent that had been set aside for the staff.

'Coffee,' she muttered. 'I want coffee.' She gave Bill an imploring look over the top of her now-gleaming glasses and he visibly softened.

'Here,' he said, picking up a blanket to wrap around her shoulders. 'Better?'

She nodded and smiled, her fingers reaching to linger on his. 'Yeah, thanks.'

'I'll go get us a hot drink,' he said gruffly, and disengaged their hands.

She watched him go, the emotional wellspring of warmth within her almost eclipsing her physical chill. Almost. Tory came and sat beside her, and Laura cast the younger woman a suspicious glance. She was half expecting another smart comment.

Instead, Tory gave her a proper smile. 'Better?'

Laura huddled into her blanket and hummed. 'Bill - the Admiral - has gone to get us some coffee.'

Tory opened her mouth as if she was going to say something, and snapped it shut again.

'What?'

'Nothing. Nothing at all. Here's the Admiral!' and she jumped up and dashed off when Bill returned, carrying two steaming metal cups.

Laura took the one he offered, gratefully cradling it in her icy hands. 'Maybe this wasn't such a bad idea after all.'

He cocked a brow at her. 'Not gonna airlock Racetrack then?'

'I'm still thinking that one over. However,' graciously, 'I might forgive her, just because of that spring.'

They sat in companionable silence, listening to the rise and fall of young voices talking and laughing, enjoying the crackle and imagery and warmth of the camp fire.

'I know it's not what we wanted,' Bill said softly. 'This planet. But look at 'em, Laura. Right now, they're happy. Isn't this what we've been fighting for, at the end of the day?'

'Hmmmph.' It was an odd noise, somewhere between agreement and dissent. 'I'd've preferred Earth.'

His face lit up with his rare grin, and he surprised her by putting an arm around her shoulders. 'Gods, Laura, you don't give up, do you?'

She met his eyes. 'No. Not now, not ever.'

Their gaze held and deepened, and their surroundings seemed to vanish into a background haze. He looked as if he was about to say something, and she came closer (it was cold, after all) but their happy bubble was burst by a sudden spike in volume coming from the kids.

Laura blinked, disoriented. When the loud babble resolved itself in her brain a hot flush rose to her forehead.

The little frakkers had noticed them.

They were pointing and giggling.

And some of them were _singing_.

'Roslin and Adama are sittin' in a ship...'

'At least it's better than a tree,' Bill commented darkly into her ear, his breath tingling on her skin and ruffling through her hair. 'Only time I tried that the frakkin' branch broke.'

Laura doubled over in giggles, the singing still continuing in the background. She tuned it out; she had no desire to hear just _what_ her students thought she and Bill had been up to. It was too long since she'd felt like this, light and airy and almost deliriously happy.

It was good.


	3. Chapter 3

**3: In Which There Is Panic**

* * *

Laura surprised herself by falling asleep fairly quickly. Staying asleep, on the other hand, was something else. There was some kind of owl-like bird that seemed to have a perfect genius for hooting loudly and eerily just as slumber was about to claim her. When _that_ didn't jerk her awake, Bill's sonorous snores did. She grabbed a twig and took to poking him with it so that she didn't have to reach out of her sleeping bag altogether, but he was so sleepily reproachful when she succeeded in shutting him up that she felt guilty and ended up suffering the snoring.

Then there was Tory, who was clearly having no problems whatsoever and was fathoms deep in dreamland, her eyelids fluttering and a low stream of muttered nonsense emitting from her lips. Laura contemplated transferring the attentions of her twig to _her_ , but Tory had too many opportunities for revenge to risk it, so Laura simply huffed her annoyance at the universe and glowered at the sky. It was a beautiful night, too, reminding her of the time she and Bill spent under the stars on Founder's Day. She glanced at him, but he'd (finally) taken the hint and had rolled into a sleeping position that did not cause him to sound like a dying bull.

She sighed, and rolled closer, knowing from Kobol that he was the best bulwark against the wind she could have. She closed her eyes and focused on sleeeeeeeep...

She must have succeeded, because the next thing she knew, her heart seemed to be trying to escape the confines of her chest. Dazed, it took Laura a split second to realise why. Then she tried to escape the confines of her sleeping bag.

Someone was screaming. Loudly. At eardrum-bursting pitch.

Laura struggled harder; anything to get to the perpetrator and discover the cause of the screaming or (more likely) suppress them thoroughly. Stiff from a night on the ground—even her cot back in her tent offered better protection from the elements—her efforts got her precisely nowhere. Insult was added to injury when Tory managed to untangle herself from _her_ sleeping bag with a minimum of fuss and leg it across the camp while Laura was still trying to make her arms do what she told them.

'I hate young people,' she declared grumpily once she'd finally extracted her fingers and began to unzip her bag.

'Lucky you didn't enlist,' Bill commented, his amusement a little too plain for Laura's comfort. 'You're not made for this living rough, are you?'

Laura cast him an incredulous look. He seemed completely unbothered by the ongoing yells that would have done credit to a whole phalanx of banshees. 'And _which_ of us is living down here right now?' She indicated vaguely in the direction of the wailing. 'In case you hadn't noticed, someone is screaming, Admiral.'

Bill remained unworried. 'Tory's on it.'

For some reason, this annoyed Laura hugely. 'Someone could be _hurt_ ,' she insisted as she stood, drawing herself up to her full height. Then she promptly spoiled her efforts by tripping over her own feet. Bill steadied her and she promptly removed herself from his grip. 'If you're not gonna help, take your hands off me.'

'Does that mean that I can touch you if I do help?' he asked, and she stalked off, refusing to even dignify that with a response.

'What seems to be the problem?' she demanded in her sternest teacher-cum-presidential tones as she approached the source of the howling—a thirteen year old girl with ridiculously long curly hair who was now streaming tears with the same enthusiasm she'd devoted to screaming minutes earlier. Laura took a moment to wish the girl would shower similar dedication on her schoolwork.

Tory, crouched beside the kid, looked up. 'Spiders in her hair.'

Laura stopped. 'Spiders?' she repeated disbelievingly. ' _Spiders?!_ '

'I-it w-was horrible, M-miss R-roslin,' the girl wailed, literally dripping an unpleasant mixture of saline and snot. Laura stayed where she was and crossed her arms over her chest.

'They _scared_ her,' Tory added, dark eyes reproachful. 'Think of it - you're sleeping and something creeps and crawls through your hair and penetrates deeper and deep-'

The girl started to shriek again and Laura clapped her hands to her ears.

'All right!' she shouted. 'Miss Foster, I'll deal with this now. Perhaps you could-um, put the coffee on? Yes. Do that. Coffee. We'll need breakfast soon and I don't imagine anyone will—Persephone, for the love of all the gods will you _SHUT THE FRAK UP_ or I'll ask Admiral Adama to put _you_ out an airlock!'

Laura regretted the words back as soon as she uttered them, but they were gratifyingly effective. Persephone stopped shrieking so suddenly that Laura's ears continued ringing for some seconds after.

Even so, she had to admit she couldn't entirely blame Persephone. Tory's words had given her the shivers. Not only that, but she had her own memories of getting bugs caught in her mane as a child. She managed a weak smile at the girl, who was starting to look as if she preferred the spiders when the alternative was an irate former president with a penchant for airlocks.

'Are you okay now?'

'Y-yes'm,' the girl stammered, wide-eyed.

Laura glanced at one of Persephone's friends who'd stayed nearby throughout. 'Are _you_ okay?'

'Yes, ma'am.' She gave Laura a decidedly wary look. 'Um, shall we bring Seph over to Miss Foster?'

Relieved that _someone_ was behaving sensibly, Laura beamed. 'Yes. Absolutely. You do that. Make sure you add plenty of honey to Persephone's cup!' she shouted after the pair as they sidled off. The sensible girl, Polly, looked back with a nod, and Laura sighed. Perhaps she should go for some coffee herself.

She had just collected her cup of morning brew and settled next to Bill in their shelter when one of the boys plonked himself beside her, an imploring look plastered across his freckled face.

Laura realised she was about to be wheedled and steeled herself. She had a soft spot for this particular kid, for his frank gaze and unruly mop reminded her painfully of Billy. The fact that he was a good student (most of the time) helped too.

'Miss Roslin,' Richie began seriously, 'this is a campin' trip, right?'

'Hmmm,' Laura agreed, although she was personally starting to consider it a quick way of driving innocent teachers around the bend.

Richie shifted awkwardly, and Laura eyed him over the top of her glasses. 'What is it, Richie? Spit it out. I can only say no.'

'I wanna go nature-studyin',' Richie said in a rush. 'You know, draw the plants an' animals and stuff.'

'That's a great plan,' Bill interjected. 'I'll tell you what,' he went on, 'there's a stream nearby. How 'bout I show you how to pan for gold after you've done your nature study?'

Laura could mark the exact instant when pure academic aspirations were overtaken by base mercenary instincts. Richie's eyes practically glowed cubit signs.

'Yeah! That'd be ... like frakkin' awesome, sir!' He caught Laura's eye and gabbled a quick, 'I mean, _totally_ awesome,' whilst scrambling to his feet, almost puppy-like in his eagerness. 'Can I tell the others, Mr-er—sir?'

'The title is "Admiral",' Laura interjected in her best old-maid-schoolmistress tones, but Richie ignored her, his eyes still fixed on Bill.

She huffed as Bill nodded agreement. Richie ran off to his mates, yelling about getting rich.

'He's happy,' Bill said, sounding far too satisfied. He looked it, too, his moustache twitching with his smile, like the cat who'd got the cream.

Laura hummed sceptically. She had a nasty feeling that this would come back to haunt them.

* * *

Several hours later, Laura was in the middle of explaining photosynthesis and similar processes to a mixed gang of teenagers when Bill reappeared, looking wilder than she'd ever seen her stoic admiral look. She paused in her lecture and stared at him.

'What's wrong?'

The kids went wide-eyed and still.

Bill's look of wildness faded to... could it be _guilt?_ All her instincts on alert now, Laura dropped the stick she was using as a pointer (causing momentary consternation amongst her pupils; one wag shouted 'Timber!').

'Admiral?' she questioned.

Now he just looked sheepish, like a little boy who'd got caught with his hand in the proverbial cookie jar. Laura's eyes narrowed.

'What did you do?'

Bill pulled himself up straight and met her gaze, his jaw clenched and his hands clasped in a familiar pose at his waist. 'I ... uh, I lost your kids.'

With the prospect of infuriated parents (never to mention potentially aggrieved voters) before her, Laura took off at a run.

Finding the kids was a priority. Murdering Bill could wait.

* * *

 _If you've enjoyed this—or for that matter,_ haven't _enjoyed it—please let me know._


	4. Chapter 4

**Thank you to Guest once again! Your reviews are keeping me posting; otherwise I'd probably give up in despair.**

* * *

 **4: In Which Children Are Found**

* * *

Despite her initial velocity, Laura was less distraught than she seemed - at first. She despatched Bill and Tory after the boys, reassuring herself with the recollection that boys did tend to wander off, regardless of her horrid warnings. They usually wandered right back, none the worse for their little adventure.

 _But this isn't Caprica, or any of the Colonies_ , she kept thinking, her attempts at optimism notwithstanding. They hadn't been able to spare people to explore the planet thoroughly, and even the best aerial topographical surveys had their limitations. When minutes turned into hours, her imagination went into overdrive.

The other children were no help.

'Maybe they've drowned,' was one cheerful suggestion. It triggered a flood of similar ideas.

'Or they've fallen down a hole and broken their necks,' a thirteen year old put in, sounding altogether too pleased by the prospect. (In fairness, one of the disappeared had woken him that morning by planting a very long and slimy worm on his face.)

'I think they've been eaten,' the youngest camper said, a child who regularly foiled Tory because that efficient young woman had yet to realise that (infantile) appearances could be deceiving, especially when the appearance was as angelic as Ronnie's.

'That's enough,' Laura said firmly, casting an anxious eye skyward. It was starting to get dark, and there was still no sign of Bill, Tory, or their missing persons. 'Let's get the fire started and play round robin.'

The children grumbled at this, but settled down. Their stories were considerably gorier than usual and Laura decided that this was their idea of revenge. She forced herself to sit calmly through tale after tale of horror and suspense, many of which revolved around school trips gone wrong. She did, however, manage to avoid jumping when a dramatic pause was interrupted by the sound of crackling leaves and twigs.

Laura smirked when nearly half of her charges yelled, while she herself rose to meet the newcomers. Her smirk faded when Tory and Bill came forward alone.

'No luck?' she asked.

'No sign of them at all,' Tory responded, looking as worried as Laura was beginning to feel. 'We searched a good mile's radius of the spot the Admiral took them -'

'Could they have been hiding?' Bill suggested, interrupting Tory ruthlessly.

Tory glared at him. 'With all due respect, _sir_ , the less you say right now the more you'll shine.'

Laura's eyebrows shot up and she glanced at Bill. He remained his imperturbable self and she narrowed her eyes at him. 'Tory?'

The younger woman huffed, sounding absurdly like one of their pupils. 'Well, it's all _his_ fault, isn't it? And then he had all these grand military plans... and none of them _worked!_ We're still no closer to finding the little frakkers than we were four hours ago-'

Laura cut off her diatribe by raising her hand. 'I get the picture. Go to the fire and warm up; you look at though you need it.'

With a final dark glance at the Admiral, Tory obeyed, and Laura turned back to Bill, her arms folded.

And said nothing.

Neither did he.

They locked gazes, but neither was willing to speak first.

It was an impasse.

Laura found her lips twitching; this was ridiculous. 'What did you do to Tory?'

Bill's grin flashed. 'I don't think she's used to being given orders.'

Laura huffed. ' _I_ tell her what to do.'

'Yeah, and she tells _you_ what to do,' he retorted. 'She didn't get very far with me,' and Laura broke into giggles that stopped almost at once.

She hummed a sigh. 'What about the boys?'

'They'll be fine,' Bill told her. 'Trust me on this one.' He stepped closer and crooked his arm. 'Shall we go to the fire, Miss Roslin?'

She gave him a very suspicious look. 'You're too complacent,' she remarked as she accepted his invitation. 'I don't like it.'

She did, however, like the warm clasp that enfolded her hand in his.

They settled next to the fire, ignoring how the children pointed and giggled.

'Stop being infantile,' Laura heard Tory scold a couple of especially drippy girls. 'The Admiral and the President are just good friends. _Very_ good friends.' Laura grimaced at _that_ mental image and wondered if Tory realised what she'd said.

'What's that for?' Bill asked, extending his hands towards the fire.

Laura opened her mouth to reply, but her voice died in her throat when she saw the sight she'd been waiting for all day. She was on her feet and over by the returned wanderers before Bill had time to do more than blink.

'Are you all right?' Laura demanded as she moved from boy to boy. The light had not entirely gone; she could see flushed, scratched cheeks and sparkling eyes. 'No-one hurt?'

The tallest of them looked puzzled. 'Why would we be hurt, Miss?'

Laura managed to avoid gaping. 'You ... disappeared, Joe,' she pointed out. 'Miss Foster and I were worried. No-one could find you.'

Joe's jaw dropped and he glanced at the Admiral. 'Find us?'

'Yes, Joe, find you,' Laura repeated with more than a hint of impatience. 'We didn't intend to lose you.'

'You didn't,' Joe said, still looking puzzled. 'We knew what we were doing. He' - he pointed at Bill - 'told us some stuff and sent us off. Our mission,' he continued self-importantly, 'was to branch off by ourselves and see if we could get some fish and find our way back using only basic tracking skills. We did, too,' he finished jubilantly, lifting a huge silver fish and nearly smacking Laura with it. 'See, sir? We did it!'

'Well done, lads,' Bill called.

Laura did not miss the uneasy glance he sent her way, and gritted her teeth. She was _definitely_ going to kill Bill Adama for this, she swore it.


	5. Chapter 5

**5: In Which Tory Has A Front Row Seat**

* * *

Tory Foster stared up at the canvas roof above her head and sighed. Right now she was wishing she had alternative accommodations; the tent was entirely too small for the atmosphere that was exuding from the Roslin-Adama side.

She turned over, her back to her companions, and snuggled into her sleeping bag. _Laura and the Admiral are adults_ , she reminded herself firmly. _They can sort out their own tussles. You're not her aide any more..._

Between one thing and another it had been a long day. The Admiral had sent her on a positive goose chase up the river and she'd fallen in twice, but Laura and the Admiral were too busy squabbling to even notice. Tory felt she deserved to be aggrieved over this; she was certain that if _Laura_ had done the falling, the entire camp would know about it.

She huffed. Sleep. She'd deal with the superannuated teenagers beside her in the morning, after she'd stiffened her fortitude with coffee - flavoured with a nip of a certain strong liquid she had secreted in her bag. There were advantages to getting friendly with Ellen Tigh after all, she thought complacently. That liquid was the only thing that kept her sane. She'd discovered a grey hair the morning before, and the cause wasn't far to seek.

Running after Laura frakking Roslin was no sinecure, no matter what position she held.

A soft voice jerked her out of her half doze.

'Laura?'

Tory muffled a groan into her sleeping bag. _Please don't tell me they're going to—_

'Laura...'

A rustle and a hum.

'Are you awake?'

 _Please don't answer, please don't answer_ , Tory mentally begged her boss. She should have known better.

'No,' Laura's voice said. It was drowsy and quiet and lacked her usual clarity, but it still qualified as a response.

Unfortunately, the Admiral knew it.

'We need to talk.'

'No, we don't.'

Tory grinned in the darkness. Clearly Adama wasn't going to get anywhere with Roslin tonight. That was... downright hostile.

'Laura!'

'I'm not talking to you.' Tory heard a rustle, and smirked. She'd moved away from him.

'I'm sorry,' Adama said. 'I didn't mean to-'

'Not listening,' Laura muttered. More rustlings, and an exhaled sigh of annoyance.

A pause.

Then, 'I did it for you, you know.'

Tory winced. _Uh-oh..._

'In _deed_? How, exactly, do you work that out?'

A soft rumble and the sound of someone struggling with their sleeping bag.

'Bill Adama, stay right where you are!'

'I'm cold,' he said, and Tory snickered. Who'd've thought the Admiral of the Fleet could sound so petulant? 'I wanna talk to you and I don't wanna wake Tory.'

 _Too late, sunshine_.

'You can freeze for all I care,' Laura muttered. 'After what you put me through today-'

'I was trying to protect you,' Adama hissed.

'Huh. Some protection.'

'You're gonna be president again some day an' I thought it'd be better if you thought the kids were lost. 'Cos then everyone's happy. The boys got to go do stuff-er-boys do-'

Laura gave vent to a most inelegant snort.

'-and the parents can't complain they weren't supervised, can they? 'Cos you thought they were _lost_.'

His only answer was silence. A silence that stretched.

Finally, Laura said, 'That's the stupidest thing I've ever heard. Were you even _around_ during your sons' schooldays?'

Tory wished there was a nice deep hole she could crawl into. This was getting personal.

'Because, clearly,' Laura went on, her tone becoming sharper with every word, 'you know absolutely nothing about parents. Anything could've happened to those boys, Admiral. Anything. And guess what, lost or not, it'd have been _my_ fault.'

'Oh.'

'Yes, sir, _oh_. Allow me to suggest you leave dealing with the kids to me in future.'

'I don't even know why you asked me to come on this trip,' Adama complained in an all-too-audible whisper. 'You won't let me do anything-'

'Believe me, right now I don't know why I asked you along either,' Laura hissed. 'I thought you'd help, not be worse than the kids-'

'They're boys, Laura,' Adama said. 'You can't wrap 'em up in cotton wool. Some day those kids are gonna be in my birds-'

'Like hell they will!'

'You're their teacher, not their mother!'

 _Frak_ , Tory thought. _Now he's done it._

'Get out.'

'No chance.'

'I can kick,' Laura warned, and Tory struggled with a sudden desire to cackle hysterically. This was ... surreal.

Her eyes widened when she heard a series of rustlings, several mutters, a thump, and a gasp.

'Now you can't,' the Admiral said smugly.

 _Are they-?_ Tory wondered. She shut her eyes tightly and wished she could do the same to her ears. _I don't wanna know..._

'Get your hands off me,' Laura hissed. 'Or I'll - I'll scream!'

Adama laughed. 'Not you.'

'Frak.'

'Can't. We've company, remember?'

'Shut up, Bill.'

'Oh, we're back on first name terms?'

'Hmmm. For now. Hadn't realised I was so cold.'

'That'll teach you to argue- _ouch!_ Keep your pointy fingers to yourself, Roslin.'

 _I'm not hearing this_ , Tory thought desperately. This is all a - a dream. A nightmare. No, it's a frakking night terror, that's what it is...

'Anyone tell you you're a wuss?' Laura asked, and Tory felt a blush rise up her cheeks. The older woman's voice was pitched low and intimate, and she sounded _extremely_ comfortable, whatever she was doing.

' _I_ told you I'm a wuss,' Adama said easily. 'On Kobol.'

Laura giggled. 'Yes, our first time under canvas.'

'This is much better,' the Admiral said comfortably. 'Last time it leaked.'

'Last time, you shouldn't have been there,' Laura reprimanded softly. 'A week after being shot -'

'Says the woman who was dying from cancer.'

'I'm not dying now.'

'And I'm not recovering from being shot.'

'Hmmm.'

Something ... slurped. Tory squeaked.

'What was that?' Adama asked, turning instantly into a soldier.

'You're hearing things, Bill. C'mon.'

'You're just saying that 'cause you're still cold and you wanna use me.'

'I'm always cold.'

'Lucky I don't mind being used, isn't it?' Tory heard the sound of a zip being undone and yelped.

There was a frozen pause.

'I definitely heard _that_ ,' Adama said.

'Hmm. Yeah, you did. Uh... Tory?'

Tory couldn't help it. She giggled. After arguing, flirting, and cuddling, _now_ her boss decided that whispering was the way to go?

'Tory, are you okay?'

'Frakkin' roommates,' the Admiral said sourly.

' _You_ barged into _our_ tent,' Laura pointed out.

'Okay, that's enough!' Tory interjected, before they could start again. 'I don't wanna hear any more. I can't deal with it, Madam President. Either fight or frak, I don't care, but I don't want know, I don't wanna see it, and I sure as heck don't wanna hear it!' Her voice rose into a crescendo as she ended.

There was a long, long silence.

Then something rustled on the canvas walls and a very cross adolescent voice said, 'For frak's sake, can't you lot shut up? Some of us are tryin' to _sleep_.'

'Whoops,' Laura and Bill said simultaneously.

'I'm going to find somewhere else to sleep,' Tory said, scrambling to her feet. 'You can do ... whatever. Just be _quiet_ about it, for the love of all the gods!'

She stalked off and tried not to think about what might be happening in the tent she'd left. If she dwelt on it she'd definitely have nightmares. She was sure of it.

* * *

 **I must admit this is one of my favourite bits of the entire fic. Don't forget to let me know what you think!**

TBC


	6. Chapter 6

_Many thanks to Guest again! I love your enthusiasm for this. Here's the next couple of bits and I hope everyone reading has had a lovely Christmas and all the best for 2017_.

* * *

 **6: In Which There Is No Food**

* * *

For the second time in as many days, Bill and Laura were roused by blood-curdling shrieks.

'Can't we turn them off?' Bill rumbled into Laura's hair.

She... snuffled. There was no other word for it. 'Can't. They're not Cylons.'

'I'd never thought I'd say this, but right now, that's a frakkin' shame.'

'Leave them alone,' Laura complained, shuffling closer like some overgrown caterpillar. 'And shut up. It can't be time to get up yet.'

'You're not one for pillow talk, are you?'

'Hmmmm,' was Laura's only reply, and Bill grinned into the coppery strands that tickled his nose. It was anyone's guess what _that_ meant.

The shrieking had stopped, and was superseded by a strict voice scolding.

'Hey, did you know Tory was doing the yelling?' Bill asked.

'Yeah,' was the mumbled reply.

'And you're not gonna find out why?'

'Why should I? She's perfectly capable of handling whatever it is. Why do you think I keep her around?'

That stymied Bill. What Tory lacked in charm (even he missed Billy, he had to admit) she made up for in efficiency. On the other hand, he really couldn't summon the will to care. He was relatively comfortable, and the woman he ... um... hadn't quite worked out his feelings for... was snuggled up to him. Not exactly in his arms, since they were both tightly huddled in their respective sleeping bags, but as close as they could be, otherwise.

He gave a contented sigh and grinned when it was echoed by his companion. Oh, well. She was, as she'd pointed out several times, the leader of this little expedition. If _she_ didn't feel compelled to get up and investigate, why should he? He closed his eyes and tried to go back to sleep.

He was just sliding blissfully into a dream that involved cabins and glass lakes and laughing crimson-garbed women doling out weed when he was jerked abruptly out of slumber by a sharp voice calling his name. And Laura's.

He opened one eye, and experienced a decided sense of déjà-vu. Yet again Tory was standing over them, bristling fury, her hands on her hips.

'We have no food,' Tory announced magisterially, eyeing Bill as if she thought he was responsible. 'No food at all.' Her hands fell from her hips and her entire posture drooped; in an instant she was transformed from avenging angel to tragedy queen. 'What are we going to _do?_ '

Bill rolled his eyes. _Teachers_. 'Fish.'

He heard Laura sigh. 'He's right.'

'This is all his fault,' Tory spat, pointing at him. 'If he hadn't had the bright idea of encouraging those boys to wonder off -'

'At least we know _they'll_ be able to provide themselves with food,' Bill muttered, and winced when Laura somehow managed to jab him through two sleeping bags.

'-they wouldn't have still been hungry and they wouldn't have EATEN ALL OUR SUPPLIES!'

'Wow,' Laura said, unwillingly impressed. 'They ate _all_ of them?'

'Every bite. So,' Tory went on, not without a hint of malice, 'that means no coffee for you this morning, Madam President.'

Laura turned rigid. 'They drank all the coffee?' she repeated in a strained whisper.

'Spilt it, actually. Little frakkers.' Tory sounded almost cheerful.

'Who did it?'

'The whole lot of them, from what I can gather,' Tory said. 'Led by your 'lads', Admiral.'

'Right,' said Laura, wriggling out of her sleeping bag. 'All right.'

Bill looked at her. 'You're taking this very calmly.'

'I'm a politician, remember?' Laura told him with a forced smile. 'I can smile through anything.' Her eyes narrowed at her former aide. 'Let's give 'em hell.'

Tory brightened noticeably. 'That's the best idea you've had yet.'

Bill let his head fall back on his 'pillow'. It was gonna be a long day.

* * *

With a few trenchant words, Laura coerced all the kids into getting themselves and their gear together within twenty minutes. By that time, quite half were grumbling about being hungry, and her smile turned vindictive.

'Food, yes. Okay, kids, today we're gonna be doing some survival training. You, you, and you' - she jabbed in the direction of the boys Tory had identified as the main culprits - 'can go looking for big rocks and fallen tree trunks. Don't forget to take a bucket with you.'

'Why?' one of them asked.

'You're hungry, aren't you?'

'Yes'm,' the boy replied, doing his best to look pathetic. 'Awful, awful hungry, Miss.'

' _Good_ ,' Laura cooed. 'I'm sure you'll enjoy a nice meal of _maggots!_ Admiral!' Bill jerked to attention at her tone. 'You'll show them how to do it, won't you?'

'Er,' he began. A glare warned him that pissing her off right now was a really bad idea. 'Sure.' He ushered the boys in question into the darkest, dankest depths of the woods, and Laura sent a pleased smile after them before turning to her next group of victims.

'You, you and you,' she went on, unerringly identifying a handful of kids who disliked heights, 'can go nut-picking. Ah-ah!' she remonstrated, when they opened their mouths to protest. 'You wanna eat, you'll have to do things you wouldn't normally do.'

They subsided meekly and Tory chivvied them away.

Laura looked at the remaining children who stood, watching her warily.

'We,' she informed them grimly, 'are going to move the camp and then start fishing. You four,' she said to the tallest boys, 'can be our carriers. The rest of you, take what you can. I'll bring the food bags.'

'But they're _empty_ , Miss Roslin,' one kid dared to complain.

Laura skewered him with a glare. 'And I'm hungry, missing my coffee, and much, much older than you. I'm taking it easy today, you got that?'

'Yes, ma'am,' they mumbled, thoroughly crushed for the moment.

'Excellent,' Laura approved. 'Now _move_.'

They did so with an alacrity than even the strictest of military commanders would approve, she thought with complacency as she led their cavalcade in the direction of the river. Being known as Madam Airlock had _some_ advantages...

* * *

By lunchtime they'd reached their new camping site by the river, and Laura was feeling pleasantly refreshed. Her charges, on the other hand, wilted and drooped. Normally she would have felt sorry for them but-having not forgiven them for depriving her of her morning coffee-she nagged them into setting up the tents while she took her leisure and kept an eye out for the other parties. She wasn't really worried, but after the previous day...

Once the camp was set up, Laura relented and allowed the kids to rest. They promptly did so, collapsing on their various sleeping bags with a limpness that spoke of genuine exhaustion. Laura bit back a smile as she watched them; at least there'd be no nocturnal wanderings tonight, that was for sure! In the meantime, she was getting anxious; giving the kids a hard time for the good of their souls was one thing, but driving them beyond their limits when they hadn't eaten was something else. As a result, she heaved a sigh of relief when Tory and her nut-and-berry gatherers returned, laden with their spoils.

'You found something, anyway,' Laura called out as her assistant approached, looking distinctly wild with her scratched face and hands and unkempt hair.

Tory shot a very dirty look in her direction. 'You knew we would,' she snarled.

Laura smiled innocently. 'Sherman Cottle might have mentioned it, yes. He also said the food would be a nightmare to get to. It looks like he was right.'

Tory muttered something that she had the sense to keep incomprehensible, and Laura gave the younger woman a fake sympathetic pat on the shoulder. 'Go and clean up. I'll take charge.'

Tory's only answer was a loud snort, and Laura's faux-smile morphed into a real one as she went to bend over the buckets of berries, preparatory to rationing them out.

That would teach the little frakkers - young and old - to mess with her morning routine!


	7. Chapter 7

**7: In Which There Is Drowning**

* * *

A lunch of berries could hardly be considered substantial, so Laura was not particularly surprised when barely an hour had passed before the little frakkers began complaining about being hungry. Therefore, it was time to Start Fishing.

'Who went on the Admiral's fishing mission yesterday?' she began cheerfully after summoning everyone to her spot in front of the staff tent by dint of a sharp whistle.

She was met with blank silence and Laura's smile started to slip.

Tory folded her arms and smirked. 'They're not here. You sent them off maggot-hunting this morning, remember?'

Laura managed to repress her groan. 'So I did. No matter.' She grimaced momentarily before flashing a reassuring grin at the younger kids, several of whom were sporting tremulous lower lips. 'Not to worry. We'll work it out. It can't be that hard, can it? Dabbling a stick and a piece of string at some fish?'

'My daddy used to go fishin' at home on Gemenon, an' he never, ever caught anything,' one child remarked. 'He always said it's an awful lot harder than it looks an' needs lots of patience.'

'Yes, thank you for that, Sarah,' Laura told her, refusing to acknowledge the less than flattering implication.

Despite the general lack of enthusiasm for her brilliant plan, Laura ordered the kids to pick up a pole from the pile of random unwanteds that always materialised after the tents were set up. Determinedly, she ignored the increasingly sceptical look on Tory's face and showed the kids how to fasten the string. They'd just have to do without the bait, she decided. She eyed the row of children and teenagers armed with their impromptu fishing rods and frowned. A couple of boys were engaging in a mock 'sword' fight and she put a peremptory stop to it before they could get themselves tangled up in string.

'Let's fish!' she announced cheerfully once everyone was set up to her satisfaction. 'And remember, children, fish don't like loud noises. If you don't want to go hungry tonight, you must be very quiet while you wait for them to bite.'

As she'd expected, this put paid to any incipient chatter, and Laura was lulled into a half-doze by the wind in her hair, the lapping of the water against the banks, and carefully muted childish voices. Even Tory was quiet. Probably still sulking about her tangle with the brambles, which was just fine as far as Laura was concerned.

She closed her eyes and tilted her face back to soak up the rays of the weak sun. Perhaps Bill was right. New Caprica really wasn't _that_ bad, she thought magnanimously.

The sound of splashing roused her, and she squinted through the sunlight, trying to make out the source.

'Frak,' she muttered, dropping her own makeshift rod and scrambling to her feet. 'Sarah, what are you doing?'

The little girl, now knee deep in the lake-cum-river, turned around and kept walking backwards. 'I want the flower, Miss Roslin,' she called back. 'It's so pretty!'

Laura shaded her eyes, groaning inwardly when she spotted the vivid lily-type flower that had attracted Sarah's attention. She couldn't blame the child. New Caprica wasn't exactly known for 'pretty'...

'Be careful,' she called back. 'If that water gets deeper than mid-thigh, Sarah, I want you to come back.' No point in having the girl's mother after her. Sarah Porter was just as frightening out of the Quorum as she was in it.

'Don't worry, Miss, I can - _AGGGGHHH!_ '

Laura's heart jumped into her mouth as the child's dark head abruptly disappeared beneath the water. 'Sarah!' she yelled, knowing that it was futile. Without even thinking about it, she stripped off her skirt and headed towards where the child's head had vanished - only to be stopped by a firm hand on her arm.

She turned to Bill with relief. 'She's over there,' she informed him breathlessly, pointing. 'I don't know if she can swim. The bank must have -' She stopped perforce, for he'd headed in the direction she'd indicated, and she was left standing, skirtless and shivering, in the cold knee-deep water.

The tension began to drain out of her as she saw several of 'Bill's Boys' follow him. Surely an admiral and a gang of strapping teenage lads could rescue one small girl? She sighed and started to back towards the shore and the relative warmth of her skirt. Assuming that she hadn't simply dropped it in the water, of course.

Thankfully, the skirt was dry. She gave it a shake preparatory to putting it on again, her eyes and ears still glued to the rescue scene in the middle of the wide river. Bill's head was there, and there was Sarah's, and now Sarah had been handed to one of the older boys and thence passed down their line to the shore.

Laura closed her eyes in relief. Former president or no, she was quite sure Sarah Porter would have found some way to kill her horribly if Laura had been responsible for giving Sarah Porter Junior anything more than a slight fright.

 _Thank all the gods of Kobol Bill was there,_ she thought. _Where is he, anyway? He's taking an awfully long time getting back..._

Still grasping her skirt with one hand, she lifted the other to shade her eyes and look for him. She stared hard at the spot near the lily, where Sarah had been.

He wasn't there.

She blinked, and looked again, straining to see.

Still no sign of him.

Her heart began to thump unsteadily in her chest, and she splashed through the water.

'Miss Roslin!' she heard someone shout, but she carried on splashing.

'Madam President!' That was Tory, who always reverted to the old title in times of stress. ' _Laura!_ '

She ignored it.

'Bill!' she called. 'Bill, where are you?'

The water was now nearly waist deep, and was smooth and ripple-free as far as she could see. She swallowed in an effort to ease the vise about her throat. ' _Bill!_ ' she called again, and this time it was nearly a scream.

Still nothing.

She bit her lip and willed herself not to cry. How the frak was she to explain this? 'I'm sorry, Lee, but I accidentally got your father drowned in a glorified lily pond'? _That_ would go down well. Bill would murder her when they finally met in the Elysian Fields. Not a glorious death for a soldier...

A sob escaped despite her best efforts.

Something splashed and squawked.

Laura sobbed again, and started running as fast as she could through water, which wasn't very fast. She gave a gasp of surprise when the bank beneath her suddenly disappeared, but she kept her head and began to swim, thanking every god she'd ever heard of that she'd ditched her skirt after all.

In minutes, she was where she'd seen the splash. Bill's head emerged, his nose just barely skimming the top of the water. Treading hard, she tried to grab and hold his face up, but there was something pulling him down, and he howled. It probably did hurt, she thought. Rather like being on a rack.

The sound broke her near trance. Spitting water out of her mouth, she took a deep breath and yelled, 'BOYS!' at the top of her lungs. Several came running, and she shook her head; no point having a mass-drowning... 'KNIFE!' she shrieked, praying one of them would put two and two together and make a sensible four.

In the meantime, Bill was almost certainly losing oxygen. How could she give him air, when he could barely reach the surface? A thought occurred to her, and decided to try. Not the best way to out their nascent relationship, but what the hell...

She took a deep breath and held it, before reaching to grab Bill's face. He mumbled in protest, but she ignored it, fastening her lips over his and breathing out.

Silly frakker thought she was giving him a last kiss before dying. She pinched him and tore her mouth from his.

'Breathe!' she ordered, before inhaling deeply and repeating the process.

At least he wasn't slow. He did catch on, somewhat. She didn't even know if it would work, but it was better than nothing...

And then the tension was released without warning and his head popped up out of the water, cracking hard against hers.

'Ouuuuch,' Laura complained, momentarily going under herself.

Someone hauled her up again, and she found herself face-to-face with a dazed Bill and a grinning sixteen year old.

'You good, Miss?' the kid asked, smirking.

Laura spluttered. 'How - how did you do that?'

'Sir here got his feet tangled in weeds and dragged under. Just had to cut 'em, was all.' He flourished a wicked looking knife under Laura's nose, and she reared back, inadvertently taking in another mouthful of water.

'Don't do that,' she protested once she'd finished heaving.

Suddenly, she was very tired. Rescuing was exhausting business, and she wasn't designed for it, dammit. She peered at Bill and saw he was in similar case.

'Get out,' she mumbled, not too coherently.

'Cold,' Bill agreed, his teeth chattering hard.

Laura kicked out feebly, but ... it was too much effort. She was wondering how in the name of Hades she and Bill would make it back to shore when she found herself flipped on her back and moving.

'What-?'

'We're rescuing you, Miss,' her sixteen year old said. Joe, his name was. 'Simon's got the Admiral.'

Too drained to care, Laura hummed and watched the clouds move overhead. It was all like a dream, she decided. Floating and spinning and only the clouds passing by and the water splashing for company. Perhaps the whole thing was a dream and she'd wake up and find herself in her tent, or better yet, in Bill's quarters back on _Galactica..._

* * *

 **TBC.**

 **Thanks for reading. Wondered if someone could help me find a fic? I re read it a short while ago but failed to note the title and now it's driving me nuts. It is not larsfarm77's** ** _Cold Blood_** **, I'm pretty sure, but there are similarities in that there's a strong Laura and Kara element. I think there's some emergency on Galactica (explosive, maybe?) and Laura, Bill and Kara are crawling around trying to sort it. Laura gets hurt in the process (chemical burn on her hand, maybe?) and Bill has to hold her up but she manages to go on. Bill works out how to solve the problem but it's risky and he sends Laura and Kara away after making Kara promise that no matter what they're not to come back for him. Kara agrees reluctantly and draws Laura away, but Laura realises and refuses to leave Bill. WHAT IS THIS FIC? Driving me nuts, seriously. Can't even guarantee it's labelled as A/R, could just as easily be Kara/Lee.**


End file.
